Anchor
by yournewbeloved
Summary: A young woman discovers her ancestry and is determined to tread in her father's footsteps. Will the relationship between her and a certain Native assassin aid her goal, or work against it?
1. Chapter 1

_January 28th, 1774_

It was a stupid idea, probably the most stupid idea she had ever had up until that point, but desperate times call for desperate measures. Any person in their right mind knew that it was ridiculous to try and walk into a heavily guarded fort for something as simple as food and a warm blanket, but Evelyn wasn't in her right mind. She was cold and starving and had no clue how to hunt or skin an animal. A fool, some people might call her, but she had made her bed and now she had to lie in it.

With her heart beating in her throat, the young woman peered to the small entrance to the fort from a patch of high bushes in which she was hiding. There was one guard—and he seemed to walk away every few minutes or so, to talk to another guard. She evaluated the situation once more.

' _Fifteen seconds to get in and find a hiding spot. No weapons to defend myself. And that's only getting_ in. _I can do this. It'll be a piece of cake.'_

Just thinking it to herself already sounded fake, but she knew she needed the supplies. She waited until the guard turned away and disappeared around the corner, then got up and made a run for it. She sprinted towards the entrance, stopped right at the opening and peeked around the corner. There was nobody in sight except for the two guards who were loudly laughing about something. She quickly analysed her surroundings and spotted another patch of bushes—perfect for hiding. Quickly glancing at the guards again, she weighed her chances of making it and decided that it was now or never. She ran onto the British property and ducked into the bushes. She waited and listened for any signs that she had been discovered, but there came none. She had done it. Well—the first fraction of her plan at least.

' _Now what?'_ she thought to herself as she took in her surroundings. She had no idea where all of their supplies even were, let alone how to get there without being seen. Maybe this hadn't been such a good idea after all.

' _It's not too late to turn back. I can try to catch some fish again before it gets dark and make a f-'_

Evelyn almost leapt a meter in the air when someone grabbed her firmly by her shoulder and yanked her up.

''Well well, what do we have here? What's a young lady like yourself doing here all alone?'' a man in red smirked almost dangerously, sending an uncomfortable shiver down Evelyn's spine.

''I'm just lost…'' she said, blurting out the first thing that popped into her head.

''Lost, aye? Oi, Parkins! Look what I found lurking about.''

Evelyn tried to inconspicuously free her shoulder from the man's grasp, but he had a firm hold on her coat, and she knew she wasn't going to be able to simply make a run for it.

''Would you look at that, can't be older than twenty. Ne'er been touched neither, I reckon,'' another guard pondered out loud as he walked over.

''What's your name, love?'' he asked, grinning widely and planning his hands on his hips as he looked her over. Evelyn kept her mouth firmly shut as she simply glared at the man in front of her. She wasn't new to this kind of talk from men—she had heard things like that around Boston all the time, to her and every other woman more or less, but she had never gotten used to it. It made her skin crawl and it make her angry and it made her want to hurt him, badly.

''I said, what's your name,'' the guard known as Parkins repeated, the smirk off of his face now, and he grabbed her chin in an attempt to intimidate her. Evelyn immediately shoved the guard as hard as she could, it being more of a reflex than anything. The guard that had been holding her by the shoulder immediately grabbed her arms and held them behind her back. Parkins stumbled back a few steps, but all that the shove had really done was make him look furious.

''Bad idea, love,'' he grumbled under his breath as he reached to his belt to take out his gun. Evelyn never got to see what happened next, because by someone or something, she and the other guard were knocked to the ground. She felt his grip loosen and immediately took the chance to break free, scramble to her feet and run to the entrance as fast as she could. She didn't look back to see what had happened, neither did she really care. She ran until she didn't hear the sound of the bell anymore—which had started to ring after she had been able to make her escape.

She sunk to the snowy ground, not bothered by the snow dampening her trousers. She had never been that close to dying, and she wasn't planning on doing anything stupid like that again. She sat there until she felt like her heartbeat was under control again, before getting up and continuing her journey.

''Oh father. If you could see me now,'' she mumbled to herself, shaking her head lightly as she tracked through the snow. She kept walking until her feet were numb from the cold, and even then kept walking. She had to reach some kind of civilisation soon, or a farm, or even just a simple shack to take shelter in. Another night out in the cold would surely be her last night altogether.

As it started to get dark, Evelyn started to get desperate, and right when she was going to give in to her panic and allow herself to warm her cheeks with tears, she saw the tiniest flicker of light in the distance. The shape of a small house became clearer as she got closer, and her heart started to beat faster again, in excitement.

''Please, _please_ let them be normal people,'' Evelyn pleaded silently as she approached the house. From the outside she couldn't see through the windows—there was too much condensation on them to see through—so she knocked on the door and hoped for the best.

A kind looking woman opened the door and seemed a little surprised by Evelyn's presence.

''Hi…I was wondering if I could maybe…spend the night here. I am far from home and don't have a place to stay…'' she said, wincing at how tactless she sounded. For someone who had been wandering around for a place to stay you'd think she would have prepared for the moment of truth better.

''Oh child, come inside,'' the woman said, gently ushering Evelyn inside and closing the door behind her. The warm air of the small house was such a nice change from the days in the cold that Evelyn almost burst into tears anyway. Sitting at the table were a man and three children, all looking at her, and Evelyn couldn't help but feel a little shy with all these eyes on her.

''Sit, sit. How long have you been out there?'' the woman asked as she walked to the fireplace. Evelyn sat down and smiled gratefully at the man of the house, who gave her a sympathetic nod.

''A few days… I came here from Boston with a horse, until she was stolen. I think I've been walking for three…no, four days now.''

The woman tutted disapprovingly as she walked over and put a steaming cup of warm milk and a piece of bread in front of her. ''Where are you headed?''

''I'm not really sure, actually. I am looking for someone. Hold on…'' Evelyn said, reaching in her pocket. She took a piece of paper out and smoothed it out on the table. ''I'm looking for the person who can tell me more about this symbol. I just don't know where to find that person.''

The woman and man both looked at the piece of paper.

''I've seen that symbol,'' the man said with a nod. ''Up at the Davenport Homestead, if I'm right. That's probably a good place to start and not far from here. Might find a room there as well.''

Evelyn was ashamed to admit to herself that in her enthusiasm, she had assumed that she had found a place to stay, but she had no idea whether they were even willing to.

''Unfortunately we don't have any spare place to sleep in for you—unless you'd make do with the floor—but I don't mind giving you a ride up the hill to the Homestead, if you'd like?'' the man offered.

''I would forever be in your debt,'' Evelyn smiled widely. For a second she thought about the possibility that she was dreaming, and if she was, she didn't want to wake up. How incredibly lucky she was to have stumbled upon this nice family.

''Go on, drink your milk and eat your bread, sweetheart. You'll need the warmth,'' the woman said. Evelyn drank the warm milk—which warmed her up so much that she could have fallen asleep right there at the table, and ate the bread, which truth be told only made her feel more hungry, and thanked the woman for her hospitality, before exiting the house again with the man.

''Hop on in,'' the man said, gesturing to the empty hay wagon in front of which a dark brown horse was ready to take her to her next destination. She climbed in the wagon and settled in, waving at the woman and children as the man commanded the horse to move. She had to fight sleep as the wagon gently rocked her back and forth, and after what she thought to be half an hour, the wagon stopped in front of a big land house.

''Here we are. Lights are on, so he's home. Good luck finding your symbol,'' the man said as Evelyn got off of the wagon.

''Thank you sir, truly. I don't know how to repay you,'' Evelyn said, ashamed that she had no way to pay him for the milk or ride.

''Don't worry about that, perhaps in the future you come upon us again and we can settle that debt,'' he said with a smile that Evelyn knew meant that he didn't even consider it a debt.

''Thank you, again!'' she called after the man when he went on his way back home. She turned to the house and admired the view for a second. It was bigger than any house she had been in, that she was sure of. She walked up the steps and knocked on the door. She suddenly realised that she was nervous and had an uneasy feeling in her stomach. Maybe this was it. Maybe this was what she was looking for.

The door opened and an old, slightly grumpy looking man greeted her in the form of silence.

''Good evening… I was directed here through this symbol…'' Evelyn said, holding out the piece of paper, hoping sincerely that the man recognized it. The man gritted his teeth and turned.

''Always that blasted symbol, leading young ones here for me to care of. Close that door will you, the warmth is escaping,'' he complained as he walked away, using a walking stick for support as he had a limp.

Evelyn quickly stepped inside and closed the door behind her.

''So you know the symbol?'' she said hopefully, following the man.

''Oh yes, I know it.''

''So what does it mean?''

The man sat down on a chair, letting out a long sigh and looked up at her.

''Just because I'm not going to let you freeze to death outside, doesn't mean I'm up for talking. I assume you need a place to stay for the night?''

Evelyn nodded—even though she desperately wanted to press on for answers, she didn't want to jeopardize a warm bed to sleep in.

''There is a spare room you can settle in for the night upstairs.''

''Thank you, mister…'' Evelyn said, again amazed that she had actually managed to find people that aided her like this.

''You may call me Achilles,'' the man said, and Evelyn nodded.

''I'm Evelyn. Do you live here alone?'' Evelyn replied.

''No.''

Evelyn expected something else to follow, but when it didn't she slowly nodded and put the piece of paper in her pocket.

''Goodnight,'' she told Achilles, who simply waved at her. Evelyn treaded upstairs, walking slow as to take in her surroundings. A few of the rooms were in use, so she took the first room that seemed uninhabited. She closed the door took her shoes, coat and trousers off. Thankfully the man kept the entire house warm by lighting all the fireplaces, including the one in this room, so sleeping in her undergarments wasn't going to be very cold. She crawled in bed and pulled up the sheets, in awe that she was in an actual bed. Maybe she was still dreaming?

She softly pinched herself, just to be sure. She was actually awake. And she was determined to find out what that symbol meant.


	2. Chapter 2

_January 29th, 1774_

Evelyn had no idea how long she had slept for but it must have been a long time, since the sun was already high in the sky when she woke up in the comfortable bed. She had dreamt of the strange woman again, the woman who claimed to be of the First Civilization. The same woman whom she had dreamt of before she left home. The same woman who had lead her onto her newfound path.

'' _You are in the right place, Evelyn_ ,'' she had said, '' _now go and follow your destiny._ ''

Evelyn had no idea what she meant by her destiny—the woman hadn't answered her questions about it. Why was this her destiny? What was _this_ in the first place? What did the symbol mean and what did it have to do with her father? She knew that it had to do with him, the woman had explicitly mentioned that she had to ''tread in his footsteps'', but she hadn't told her any details. All her life, Evelyn had only heard stories about her father. How great of a man he was. So just, so fair, so chivalrous. She didn't remember anything about him—how could she when he died when she was only two months old.

''You are just like him,'' her mother told her frequently, ''in characteristics but also in your appearance. You have his sense of righteousness, his determination, and his eyes.''

It made her feel connected to him and proud to be his daughter. He undoubtedly must have had his flaws, but so did she, so did her mother, so did every other person. She often asked herself, why him. Why a man who is so loved, and now missed by his family. Of course, many people died of sickness every day. Despite the stories about him—about how good of a man he was—goodness was not a cure for the disease that took him. It started out with a simple cough, followed by a fever. He was gone in a week.

The only consolation Evelyn found in the absence of her father, was that she never had to suddenly cope with losing him. She didn't truly know what she was missing, and having seen the sadness in her mother's eyes whenever she talked about him, made her realize that had she had the time to grow up with her father, only to have him taken away so abruptly, would have most likely damaged her beyond repair.

Moving the sheets away, Evelyn sat up in the bed and stretched lazily. Had it been up to her, she would have stayed in bed for hours and hours to come, but she didn't want to impose in the Achilles' home too much. She looked around for her clothes but they weren't on the floor where she had left them. By the fireplace, a pair of trousers, a shirt, a thick vest and a pair of socks were laid out, and she got up to put them on. She was surprised that the man had clothes that fit her, since it looked like he lived alone.

As she got dressed, she went over the true reason she came here in her head. The symbol. Achilles hadn't seemed to be very keen on talking about the symbol yesterday, but perhaps that was because it had been late. She was determined to find out what he knew, however, because from what he had said, he had definitely seen it before.

She tried not to get overly excited as she made the bed and exited the room, then walked down the stairs. She walked to the sitting room, where the old man was standing in front of the window, looking out over the snowy forest.

''Good morning,'' he said, beating Evelyn to it, who was about to greet him.

''Good morning,'' she replied quickly. ''Thank you for the clothes, they fit,'' she added.

''Ah yes, I took the liberty of washing your old ones. Excuse my breach of your privacy, but I expected you to feel more comfortable in a set of clean clothes.''

''Oh, no apology needed,'' she waved his words away, ''it is your home. And you expected right, these are perfect.''

There was a pause while Evelyn struggled to find a good way to start about the symbol, but once again, Achilles beat her to it.

''If you're wondering about the symbol, you are not going to find your answer here.''

Evelyn felt her heart sink in her stomach.

''But you know it. You know the symbol.''

''Yes.''

Evelyn's heart leapt up again.

''What does it stand for?''

''Listen, child, this is not something you want to meddle in. I don't know how you came upon this symbol or why it drove you here, but I'm afraid I can't help you.''

''It is because of my father. He carried this symbol with him, it is all I have left of him. I was told to find the symbol here, to follow my destiny-''

''Who told you this?'' he interrupted me.

''It… I suppose it came to me in a dream.''

Achilles sighed a deep breath and muttered something under his breath that sounded like ''not again'', but Evelyn couldn't be certain.

''P-Perhaps you knew him. Hendrik ter Beek.'' Evelyn looked at him hopefully. She didn't know if the name held any meaning to him, but if it did, he might change his mind on the matter.

Achilles sighed and settled himself on a chair. ''I knew him. Sit down.''

''I knew your father. I actually worked with him, a long time ago. I'm surprised that I did not recognize you. You resemble him. He was a good man, taken from this world too soon, though not surprising in our line of work.''

''What do you mean? He died of typhoid fever,'' Evelyn frowned slightly. What did being a tailor have anything to do with getting a deadly fever?

''I'm afraid your mother has misinformed you about the true nature of his work. Not that I can blame her—it is no tale for a young girl. But, I'm thoroughly convinced that you won't stop looking for answers until you get them. Best you get them here than elsewhere, where it could be much more dangerous.''

Evelyn wanted to ask what on earth he was on about, but composed herself and kept her mouth shut.

''Your father was a part of the Assassin Order. He was one of the best. A lot of our brothers looked up at him and strived to be like him. When I learned of his fate in Lisbon I felt like I truly had lost a brother by blood. Your father did not die of typhoid fever. He died on his last mission in Portugal.''

The mixture of disbelief and confusion must have been very prominent on Evelyn's face, because Achilles continued to explain what the Brotherhood exactly was, how her father was tied in there and how he tragically came to his untimely death.

''I apologize if I shattered the image of your father for you. Now you know the truth, and why I cannot help you with what you seek, other than providing answers as to what the symbol has to do with your father.''

Evelyn lightly shook her head at his words. ''You didn't shatter his image…I always believed he was a great man, and from what you told me, he was. He fought for the sake of people who can't fight for themselves…what greater nobility is there?'' she said, thinking out loud. Achilles grumbled softly. He didn't like where this was going.

''It all makes sense now… I have seen letters in which he wrote to my mother—I always assumed he got to go on far away travels for business, for new fabrics and deliveries. He used to write her about how he would teach his sons the true honor of his work, how they would follow in his footsteps. I just assumed he had meant continuing the tailor shop, but this explains a lot. He wanted his future sons to be initiated into the brotherhood… Except he died before he had any.''

Why had her mother kept all of this from her? Surely she must have known the true nature of his work—so why had she lied to her? Just to protect her, to make sure she wouldn't go look for answers? If Evelyn hadn't come across the symbol by accident, she probably still wouldn't have known. Most likely she never would have found out what truly happened to her father, who he truly was.

Anger swirled around in the pit of her stomach—mainly because she simply didn't understand why her mother had chosen not to say anything to her.

''Though I am sure you are full of questions, it is best not to dwell on the past. You know what truly happened to your father. You got your answers. You should return home to your mother and pick up your life.''

''No.''

There was a silence in the room for a few seconds.

''I'm not going home. I might not be his son, but I am still his child. I will honor him by joining the brotherhood.''

''You can't just join the brotherhood, child, it takes years of training and discipline.''

''So train me.''

Achilles shook his head at the stubborn young woman. ''This life isn't for everyone.''

''That is my decision to make. I am his daughter, I am entitled to—''

''Be careful with what you say. You are not entitled to anything, not _just_ because he was your father. You don't know what you're asking. Once you sign up for this, you have mapped out the rest of your life. Most of us don't make it over 40. Your father is proof of that.''

Evelyn was angry, at his words, but at the same time she knew they held the truth. She wasn't surprised that assassins didn't live to be very old, but she didn't care about that. What she cared about was doing something meaningful, something to be proud of.

''I understand that it is a big life changing decision, but I am not going to change my mind. It is either choosing this path, the one my father took and my chance to follow in his footsteps, or going back home and being married off to a drunk scumbag. An easy choice for me.''

Achilles looked at her, seeing the determination in her eyes. ' _She's certainly like her father_ ' he thought as he considered the possibility of training her. She had a strong looking body for a young, untrained woman—fairly broad shoulders, good muscle formation in her upper legs, and despite being quite tall for a woman, she'd probably still be a lot quicker than the average male.

''Very well. I will train you. But you must know that you are not my only apprentice. You will meet him soon enough. He has the tendency to disappear for a few days, but he always turns up again. When he returns, we will start your training. He will be of good assistance.''

Evelyn couldn't stifle the biggest grin on her lips, and she had to resist jumping up to hug Achilles.

''Thank you, sir,'' she said, the excitement still very present in her voice. When she had set out to find answers about her father, she definitely hadn't expected this, but that didn't make it less satisfying. She hadn't lied about the other choice she had. Her mother hadn't done well for herself after her husband passed away, though she made some money by working as a seamstress. Evelyn had given up seaming a long time ago after deciding she was horribly bad at it. Not being able to work meant either marrying the highest bidder or working in a brothel—something she refused to do. Her mother tried to do everything she could to refrain from the last two options and she'd rather have nothing to eat than having to sell her daughter, but before any decisions had to be made, Evelyn had told her she was off to explore the world in hopes of finding out more about her father. Despite her mother's reluctance—which she now understood—she went anyway, and here she was.

''In the meantime, you can take care of the horses. They'll like some company,'' Achilles suggested. Evelyn quickly nodded in response.

''Right away,'' she said as she got up and walked outside. She made her way to the stables in which two horses were taking shelter from the now, peacefully eating hay.

''Hello there…'' she greeted them as she came closer, not sure if they were easily scared by strangers or not. They seemed fine as she got closer, and she lightly patted the caramel colored horse on the side of her neck. ''Seems like you don't really get cold out here, do you?'' she asked softly, her hand being colder than the horse's neck.

''I see you made it out alright.''

Evelyn almost jumped in the air when the voice of the stranger startled her, and she quickly turned around. Before her stood a tall young man in white and blue robes. He had darker skin than hers, but not quite as dark as Achilles, and half long, black hair which was halfway pulled up into a small ponytail. He looked older than he sounded, though she couldn't give an estimate on his age. Around hers, she guessed. He had dark brown eyes and somewhat harsh, yet also kind face with pronounced cheekbones and lips, and a strong jaw.

''Made it out…where?'' she asked, no idea what the stranger was talking about.

''The Templar fort. The one you broke into yesterday?''

''Oh… that… yes I did. How did you know that was me?''

''Well, after I disarmed the men and knocked them unconscious, you were gone. I could have traced your tracks easily, though I figured you didn't want to be followed.''

Evelyn realized that he must have been the one that had helped her escape yesterday, the one who had knocked her and the guard to the ground.

''Right… of course. Thank you for that, by the way. I was too busy running to properly thank you,'' she said, mildly ashamed. ''So, if you didn't follow me then what brings you here?''

''I'm staying at the mansion. I assume you have met Achilles?'' the young man asked as he slowly stepped closer, laying his hand on the horse's back.

''I did,'' Evelyn nodded. ''Hang on, if you are staying here, that means you're part of the brotherhood.''

The man looked up at her, obviously surprised by her words.

''He told you about that?''

Evelyn nodded. ''He agreed to train me and said that my training would start upon your return. I suppose that is sooner than he expected.''

''I see,'' the man replied, seemingly deep in thought.

''I am Evelyn, by the way.''

''Nice to meet you, Evelyn. I am Connor.''


End file.
